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THE 



Spanish Priest. 



A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. 



ATTEMPTING PORTRAYAL OF FRONTIER CHARACTERS, IN 

PIONEER DAYS, ON THE BANKS OF THE 

"FATHER OF WATERS." 




2 



T H K 



Spanish Priest. 



A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. 



ATTEMPTING PORTRAYAL OF FRONTIER CHARACTERS, IN 

PIONEER DAYS, ON THE BANKS OF THE 

•• FATHER OF WATERS." 



f 



BY P. J. COOPER. 



Copyrighted 1893 by J. N. Hull, St. Louis, Mo. 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



PRESS OF 

THE WOODWARD & TlERNAN PRINTING CO., ST. LOUIS. 

1893 



30 f 7 



^ 



THE SPANISH PRIEST. 



CHARACTERS. 



Ordadro.—A Catholic Priest. 

Bern reb. — ( Alias Darkrad . ) 

Cardrac. 

Comanroc. — An English Lord. 

Dramard Egrafargi . 

Benom r. 

Tranart. 



Ludodul. 

Sullus. 

Frederf. 

Gazzag Polylop. — A Physician. 

Hall ah j Frontiersmen . 

Girarig J 

Dod. — Slave, owned by Bernreb. 



A<i a! <i Farcraf. 

Xilliii.— Indian Girl (Educated.) 

Officer, Waiter and Slaves. 



Madam Egrafarge. 

Enelene. — Mad. Egrafarge's Maid. 



The scenes are chiefly at Urbru, a hamlel on the banks of the Missis- 
sippi soon after the territory was acquired by the United States. 



Costumes. — French, Spanish, and Frontier of the last part of the 
Eighteenth century. 



The parts of Ordadro and Cardrac are arranged for presentation by 
one person. 



T " P *?- 0C8 92 2 



ACT I. ScENE L 

THE SPANISH PRIEST. 



Scene First.— Lawn in front of Madam Egraparge's house at Urbru, over- 
looking the Mississippi Biver. Rustic settee with lady's voork.-baskei 
thereon. Bifle leaning against sette< . East / and painting materials. 

Enelene discovered on low bench sewing. 

Ene. Stitch— stitch— stitch. How I hate to sew. Fellows 
don't have to sew. I wish I'd been a boy. It's awful only just to 
be a girl. One isn't more than born before they all turn up their 
noses and say it's nothing but a girl. Girdrig thinks my sewing 
nice. I wish Hallah would. 0, but I would tease him. {Takes 
up pallette and brush.) If I could only paint I'd draw Hallah. 
He's such a splendid fellow (Paints.), dashing about on his horse 
and singing hunting songs, he hardly seems to touch the ground. 
I wouldn't smother him with flowers as Adeda painted Dramard. 
Oh, no, I'd paint him strong. My goodness, what a nose! Oh, 
that's too strong. Nobody could smother that with flowers. The 
light must be bad. Ah, what an eye! This light is surely very 
bad, and the mouth, it seems a little out of line. Oh. dear— 
somebody's coming— what shall I do ? It's that old Bernreb— to 
see Adeda. He's foolin' time. I wonder if he wants me to find 
her dagger again. I never saw her have any dagger. I'll make 
him think Adeda painted that for him. Lordy, what a him ! And 
such a light! (Drops brush, etc., and hurries to sewing.) 

Enter Bernreb 

B< rn. Ah, Enelene, how do you do. What an industrious girl 
you are to be sure, always sewing. Please see if Miss Adeda is at 
home. (Looks at Enelene 's painting.) 

Ene. She was drawing there just now. Who do you think she 
was painting? Don't you think that nose is— is— much like 
yours ? That's just your mouth though, anyway. 

Bern. And did you say that was Adeda's work ? 

Ene. (Hesitatingly.) Yes— er— yes— (Looking at the work- 
basket.) Yes, that is Adeda's work. 

Bern. Enelene, there is a big book, with a little story, of one 
Ananias; you should read that little story. It will teach you— 

Ene. Lordy, I can't read. Did he lie ? Did he teach you ? 

Bern. Teach me ! What, to lie ? 



4 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT I. 

Eae. no, to read. The other wasn't needed. 

Bern. Take care, take care there, Enelene, my teaching may 
prove rather rough. 

Ene. Eve had a teacher, rough and scaly too {making sign of 
serp( nt), though smooth of tongue— in a garden — where he wasn't 
wanted, — was that yours ? 

Bern. Enelene, be civil. Stick to your sewing. Leave paint- 
ing alone, and see if your mistress is in. 

Ene'. Yes, I will, and leave painting— and Ananias — and the 

teacher alone. (Sign of serpent.) 

(Exit Enelene.) 

Bern. Hm, little know they, why their gibes are borne. (Ex- 
amines basket.) Yes, to be sure. yes, this is Adeda's work. 
If I could but find her dagger. Ah, no, the weapon is not here. 
The galling thought that someone else may trace that dagger to its 
source, and learn Adeda's wealth and rank, ere I can grasp the 
prize — is torturing. Should the maiden learn these truths — so 
well concealed — what chance were left to me ? (Looks at the pic- 
ture.) We'll turn this blotch of folly to the wall. (Reverting 
picture.) Ah, Dramard — Dramard, as I'm alive — her cousin 
Dramard — concealed by flowers. Her tender fancy fastens on the 
youth. That foolish boy had best beware. He shall not wed the 
girl. Adeda comes, ah, how superbly fair. These fools still think 
she is the Madam's niece. Do they not see she is of finer mould ? 
— what grace and beauty. And what countless wealth, whereof 
none ever dream. By heaven, I'll gain the maid, my mortgage 
deed shall wring her aunt's consent, — but — that upstart boy. If 
he should thwart me, — a starving tiger's eager clutch would be as 
kind caress to my fierce wrath. She comes — how wondrous beau- 
tiful ! 

Enter Adeda. 

Ade. Ah, neighbor Bernreb, I am glad you came. A letter was 

received — 

Enter Enelene. 

Bern. Most charming friend, you have a thousand thanks for 
such kind welcome. 

Aile. Your pardon please, for I would fain explain. A letter 
Dramard left, was to be sent — your timely coming makes our 
errand less, and therefore was I glad. 

(Bern, makes signs to Enelene to retire.) 
Bern. I fondly hope you may not now withdraw the kindly 
words, so joyfully received. 

(Enelene going.) 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 5 

Ade. (To Ene.) Stay, stay good girl. (To Bern.) My cousin 
thought perchance you might have known one Darkrad, to whom 
the letter is addressed — 

Bern. (Confused.) Darkrad — Ah — yes — er — that is — 

Ene. The name don't seem to agree with him. 

Bern. (Giving money to Ene. and motioning to go.) I remember 
now a Darkrad of — from — New Orleans. I have a correspondent 
there ; the letter shall be forwarded if you desire. 

(Exit Enelene.) 

Ade. Thanks. Enelene — Ah, the maid has gone. I will 
myself then bring the letter. 

Bern. Please do not go, for I would speak with you. 

Ade. Let me first call the maid. 

Bern. Ah, no, my words are for your ears alone — words man 
may but utter once in all his life, if from true heart he speaks as 
I do now. Adeda, I love you, all I have, with heart and soul 
shall be devoted to your happiness — Alas, I read the answer you 
would speak — yet, do not now reply. No one in all the land can 
offer such a home as mine. My house and fittings, horses, 
servants, all, have been obtained for you, your good aunt's shelter 
is but sufferance from me. Dramard, your blood relation, is in 
love with that strange Indian girl — 

Ade. Say nothing more — I trust you may not mention this 
again, for you have truly read unspoken thoughts. And — if you 
would be a friend of mine, speak never lightly of my cousin. 
Fare you well. 

(Exit Adeda. Entering house.) 

Bern. Baffled — foiled — refused. Yet must revenge await the 
capture of its prey. Fifty thousand pounds and half the Cornan- 
roc estates. Bernreb is bent upon the prize, and will not thus be 
hindered from his spoil. 

(Enter Enelene, giving Bernreb a letter.) 

(He looks ivith some excitement at the direction.) 

Enelene. my, and does it pain you very much? Do letters 
often give one colic? 

Bern. Never mind good girl — go — thank your mistress; say 
the letter shall at once be sent. 

Ene. Yes, yes, I'll say with joy, the teacher's gone. (Making 
sign of serpent . ) 

(Exit Ene.) 

Bern. (Looking at letter.) Darkrad — Darkrad, that was the 
name by which I then was known. (Looks about to see that he is 



6 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT I. 

not obst rved and opens letter.) And from Lord. Cornanroc ! Adeda's 
brother ! My good Lord Cornanroc — My noble brother Cornanroc 
— if I shall win. (Reads.) "Many years ago my parents, with 
"an infant sister sailed for Cuba. Naught has since been heard 
"of either ship or crew, nor from the relatives so loved and lost. 
"My mother wore a rare stiletto richly jewelled and of finest' work- 
"manship; upon the belt was wrought our monogram and crest, 
"and on the clasp my mother's name. A belt of like description, 
"I am told, was once in your possession, and many weary journeys 
"have I made to find you. Should this be received I trust you 
"will at once inform me, that I may in person trace the slender 
"thread that possibly can lead to knowledge of" — There goes that 
curious Indian girl, her intuitions would outweigh a score of 
reasonings. I fear she reads my thoughts. (Patting away letter 
and about to go.) Ah, Dramard's rifle, worth twice its weight in 
gold. (Takes up gun and is going.) I could take care of this and 
charge the crime to these vile, thieving Indians. (As he is going, 
enter Nellen.) 

Nellen. The pale face seems in haste to-day. 

Bern. (Hesitating and returning rifle.) Yes — er — yes. A 
deer has passed almost within the range of this rare piece and I 
had thought to capture it. 

Nel. Has not the game in that direction fled? (Pointing to 
Madam E's house.) 

Bern. Yes, to be sure — but if reports be true it is a cover for 
more game than mine. 

Nel. Reports mislead, the Indian maiden's thoughts take 
longer flight. 

Bern. Ah, Nellen, you have well divined my thoughts, then let 
me have your aid in my most honorable suit — The priest — The 
Reverend Spanish Priest, Ordadro, comes. This parish has been 
given in his charge. 'Tis said he is of noble birth and striking 
eloquence. 

Nel. He moves indeed with graceful dignity. 

Enter Ordadro. 

Bern. Welcome, Reverend Father, welcome to our parish. 

Ord. I am glad to meet thee, neighbor Bernreb, but who have 
we here that thus combines with nature's fairest grace such signs 
of cultivation. 

Bern. To be sure, this is the Indian maiden Nellen, daughter 
of a noble chief, whose education, by the sisters of Loretto, was 
perfected with great care. Nellen, this is the Reverend Priest Ordadro. 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 7 

Net. Welcome, most gladly welcome Reverend Father. 

Ord. Thy gentle welcome meets sincerest thanks. Doubtless 
the Indian Chief was truly noble, (to Bern.) but, did not this 
graceful mien give answer, your questionable words would indicate 
it was the sire received such education. 

Bern. No, no, Father Ordadro, but he was a brave man, and 
magnanimous to those he captured, and honest withal, a rare 
trait for an Indian. 

Ord. Far more the subject than the speaker would those words 
commend. 

(Enter Adeda.) 

There is some magic in this charming air. I had not thought to 
meet such fair reception. 

Enter Madam Egrafarge. 

Bern. Father Ordadro, this is Madam Egrafarge, and this her 
niece, Adeda. 

Madam E. You have our heartiest welcome, reverend sir. 

Ord. By your generous greeting I am much impressed. How 
lovely are your flowers ; both taste and patient care have here 
been lavished. 

Madam E. The plants have been my niece's charge. 

Ade. For your kind words Adeda gives (Priest takes her hand.) 
her cordial thanks. 

Ord. Could this rare welcome to your aunt's delightful home 
have been anticipated, the hardships of my weary way had seemed 
but toils of joy. 

Ade. We know but little of the world without. I long to learn — 

Madam E. Observe this vista of the Mississippi, with stretch 
of prairie on the distant shore. 

<>rd. Majestic stream! With sweep sublime 

Through richest lands and fairest clime, 
In restless power, thy course superb 
Omnipotence alone may curb ; 
What commerce shall thy matchless strength 
Uphold through thy stupendous length ; 
What traffic on thy branches plied 
What ships shall stem thy generous tide 
When these vast realms of fertile plain 
Shall wave in boundless seas of grain ! 

Madam E. Is not that graceful mound that towers above the 
waters edge an Indian cemetery? 

Net. It was. There rest the braves of former tribes; but — the 
dim traditions of our race can tell us nothing of their name or time. 



8 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT I. 

Ord. Ah! if in Tiber's wealth of years 

This stream shall surge, with hopes and fears, 
Unnumbered joys, tears none may know, 
Through all its swift tumultuous flow 
Long centuries of deed and thought 
In endless seething turmoil wrought, 
What histories shall throng its waves 
When we have filled forgotten graves ! 

(Exit. All entering the house except Adeda and Nellen.) 

Ade. 0, Nellen, Nellen, saw you ever such a man? How 
nobly grand and generous he seemed. 

Nel. Your cousin's rifle has been overlooked. 

Ade. He is to be our priest. What joy in worship by Ordadro 
led. 

Nel. ( Taking up rifle.) This is too great a prize thus to neglect. 

Ade. Never have eyes like his looked in my own, they seemed 
to grasp and mould my thoughts. His glowing tribute to this 
mighty stream thrilled me with pride to dwell upon its banks. 

Nel. This valued piece is charmed, there's magic in its dread 
report. 

Ade. When came Ordadro I forgot all else. 

Nel. You have seen a glittering meteor stream across the 
startled sky, in course unbending, there found the warriors of our 
tribe a name for Dramard's rifle; 'tis called the Star-wing, and 
its fatal leaden sphere the Whispering-death. Your cousin when 
thus armed fills us with confidence, our enemies with fear. 

Ade. ( Taking dagger from folds of dress. ) Here is a weapon that 
to me seems charmed; observe, as one shall breathe upon the 
blade what phantom shapes enthrong its glittering steel. Our 
Savior's image forms the hilt; the jewelled eyes look forth with 
glances that arrest our thoughts, with every movement changing, 
yet their gentle clasp relaxes not. 

Nel. (Looking at dagger intently.) What strange mysterious 
power it has. How came Adeda by this wondrous blade? 

Ade. Alas! she does not know. Vague and evasive were all 
answers to her anxious words. Tradition said it had descended 
from some ancestor, but my good uncle, as he lay at point of 
death charged me to guard it with the utmost care, and bear it 
always with me, saying, this weapon is Adeda's, and beyond 
all price. 

Nel. Look! Look! In undulating course strange shadows 
chase across the blade, like waves, or driving mists. Ah there 
gleams a sail. A ship ! A ship seen dimly swaying through the 



SCENE I.] THE .SPANISH PRIEST. 9 

spray. What does this mean? There is a certain sense called 
instinct by the paler race, which the great spirit gives to all wild 
things, warning of coming storms, or nature's vast convulsions, 
guiding each bird and beast in homeward path direct, beyond all 
reasoning: this his children of the forest share most bountifully. 
Thus he reveals to our untutored eyes what science may not 
grasp. Can you not see these madly foaming waves. 

Ade. Dismay obstructs your voice : your gentle clasp has now 
a clammy shuddering that appalls. I neither see or know more 
of the instrument than has been told, save, that the eyes have 
rarest fascination, and flash their welcome answer to my own, in 
sympathy or joy. 

Nel. Ah, the ship, can you not see the struggling ship? Oh, 
'tis gone! (Crosses herself.) Only a boiling sea obscured by 
fiercely driving clouds. 'Tis very wonderful, in some strange 
way thy life with this mysterious weapon is conjoined inevitably. 
And yet you know not whence it came or who has worn it. Adeda 
Farcraf? Farcraf? Surely that name cannot be truly thine; 
reversed its magic letters smoothly flow, like gliding sands in 
time recording glass. 

Ade. That had I not observed ; 'tis only chance. 

Nel. There is no chance. The slightest thought, or word, or 
deed, has meaning, and its source. 

Ade. I am strangely moved, describe again — 

Enter Bernreb, from Madam E's house. 

Bern. To be sure young ladies, to be sure, you do not care to 
see a musty priest. Ordadro has inquired regretfully why you 
were absent, and expressed a strong desire to meet Adeda. 

Nel. Ah, yes, we have been negligent. 

Ade. Let us at once go in. (Taking dagger which she replaces 
with some agitation in folds of dress.) 

(Adeda and Nellen enter the house, bowing to Bern.) 

Bern. A little cavalierly, to be sure, but she retains her 
mother's dagger still. I have the belt that taught me of her birth ; 
till I possess that blade I must not rest; all may be known e'er 
I can clutch the prize. So fair a maid and fifty thousand pounds ! 
'Tis agony to think I may not win. What fiendish fate would bar 
my way. The priest? Confound the man ! My meager contrast 
shames beside his graceful mien. And he renouncing rank 
became a priest to save a relative — hm — If he thwarts me a thou- 
sand relatives will not save him. 

End of Scene I. 



10 THE SPANISH PKIEST. ACT I. 



ACT I. Scene II. 

Scene II. — Priest's House. 

(Dod, Negro slave, dusting, etc.) 

Dud. Hullo, here comes Mars Polylop, Mars Gazzag Polylop, 
Mars Doctor Gazzag Polylop, Lordy, what a name. I'll jest 
call him Polywog till he gits wild. Ha, ha, I reckon some of your 
sick folks gwine ter die, Dr. Polylop — allers comes whinen round 
when tbey's gwine to die, 'frade de old feller wid de forked tail 'ill 
catch him for not doctorin' on 'em right. 

(Enter Dr. Polylop.) 
Mornin' Mars Pollwog. 

Dr. P. Good morning Dod. Polylop. Dr. Gazzag Polylop is 
my name, Dod. 

Dod. Sartin Mars Polywog, Mars Gallipin Polywog, I allers — 

Dr. P. Polylop, Polylop, can you not speak my name cor- 
rectly ? Any name seems natural and appropriate when once 'tis 
mastered. 

Dod. Sartin Mars, but it takes a boss to master yourn, and 
pears like I disremember, Mars Gallipop. 

Dr. P. Dod, you rascal, if you are not more respectful, I'll 
cane you. 

Dod. Mars Doctor, you wouldn't do that to a po' slave what 
aint allowed to read, case he couldn't pernounce dese sytifnc 
names. 

Dr. P. Slave, Dod, slave: it's fortunate to be a slave, I often 
wish I was a slave, nothing to worry about, plenty to eat arid 
somebody to take care of you. 

Dod. Dat's so Mars, mouty lucky to be a slave, I seen a pan- 
ther in a cage once, and he just walked up and down, up and 
down, before de bars all day looking way over yonder, and I just 
told him there wasent noffin ober der but bresh and timber, an' he 
was mouty lucky to have plenty to eat and well tended, and a nice 
place to stay, whar there couldn't nobody get in to hurt him. Yes, 
a nigger is mouty lucky to be a slave, and well tuk keer on. 

Dr. P. True Dod, true, but tell me where is Father Ordadro ? 

Dod. He has gone to the squirrel's cave, dey's fixin' it up, and 
dey's gwine to have a fate dare, and den day's gwine ter put big 
doors on it and make it a church. Don' look the right way for a 
church to be gwine under groun' but Fader 'Dadro says it's going 
to be fine. 



SCENE II.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 11 

Dr. P. Tell Father Ordadro that I called and {Giving small 
coin.) don't "disremember" my name again. 
Dod. Thankee kindly Mars Doctor. 

Exit Dr. Polylop. 

Dod. Lem — me — see, dars two bits to buy Ama a red ribbon — 
she's a mouty sweet gal; Mars is always wantin' me to marry 
Brack Lil — catch me! — an' dars fo' bits to buy Ama a pa'r of 
gloves. Won't she be proud er dem gloves. 0, here comes Mars 
Bernreb {hastily putting money in his pocket) wants me to look out 
for dat gal and Cardrac. He tinks I don' see nuffin. Help him 
git dat gal? help de wolf cotch de lamb, "to be sure," ha ha. 

Enter Bernreb. 

Dod. Mornin' Mars Bernreb, I's hopin' you's well. 

Bern. How are you Dod. Has Madam Egrafarge been here, 
or any of the others, about money ? 

Dod. No, Mars, but Mars Cardrac, has been here, an' he's jest 
a gambler, an' a cheatin' gambler. When he was er playin' up 
ter yer house the odder night he jes' cheated ebery deal, jes don' 
yer play wid him Mars, better safe den sorry Mars, better safe den 
sorry. 

Bern. To be sure. You need hardly worry about that, Dod. 
How do you get along here ? Have you any money ? 

Dod. Git along well, but haint seed no money sence you was 
here last. I was jes wantin' to buy Lil a ribbon, but hadn't no 
money. 

}'» rn. Here Dod, {giving money). Now keep your eyes open, 
and your ears open, and tell Father Ordadro that I called and very 
much regret his absence. 

Dod. Sartin Master, much obliged for de money. 

Exit Bernreb. 

Mars jis breaking his heart to see Fader 'Dadro, "to be sure," 
ha, ha, nudder fo' bits — now Dod you's jes a mean lyin' nigger. 
You don' got dem fo' bits fa'r. If Ama and Fader 'Dadro don' 
help you, I's 'fraid you aint nebber going to get up dar whar dey 
aint no slaves, and dey's all so good and happy, and don' nebber 
have ter steal nuffin, I's moghty 'fraid you aint nebber agwine ter 
git on de fur side of dem pearly gates. 

Exit Dod. 
Exd (if Scene II. 



12 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT I. 



ACT I. Scene III. 

Scene III. — The Egrafarge Lawn. 

Madam Egrafarge and Bernreb Discovered. 

Bern. Ah, Madam, like a restless boy I cannot brook delay; 
though half my fortune, yet the day Adeda marries me this mort- 
gage shall be yours with full release. 

Mad. E. Poor child, she is too young to choose. The match 
might prove distasteful. Grant us yet a little time. 

Bern. Poor? yes, so poor, so very poor that this her only 
shelter is of right my own. The claim is long past due; time 
speeds away; these cares press sorely on your failing health. 
You need not give command, say but one word and all this treas- 
ured home with acres broad shall soon be truly yours. 

Mad. E. How could you wed her an unwilling bride ? 

Bern. O, do not think of that, my only thought in life shall be 
Adeda's happiness. 

Mad. E. {With gesture to desist.) Adeda comes. 

Bern. Then let this {Display of deed.) overrule all vain conceit. 
Exit Bernreb. 

Mad. E. That mortgage deed. What shall I do! Adeda shall 
not wed against her will to save our home. 

Enter Adeda. 

Ade. You seem distressed my dearest aunt, can I not render 
aid? 

Mad. E. Only a little indisposed. To-night the Reverend 
Priest Ordadro will attend the opening of the squirrels' cave; we 
can forget our cares amid the happy throng. 

Ade. Thanks my dear aunt. That noble, generous man! 
Please let me place my dagger in his hands ? Through Nellen I 
have learned most wondrous things of this strange instrument, 
and that my fate in some mysterious way rests with this steel. 
Ah, how I long to know its history. My dear good uncle said it 
was my own and greatly prized ; how came it mine ? There is no 
stain upon its polished blade ? On the fair fame of all our rela- 
tives is there no blot, — that this may call to mind ? 

Mad. E. 0, no, for we have no dishonored names. 

Ade. But mine, dear aunt, what do you know of mine ? 

Mad. E. Dear child, my heart, — would curb my willing 
tongue. 

Ade. 0, tell me all! lest my reluctant thoughts be urged in 
paths from which they shuddering shrink. 



SCENE III.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 13 

Mad. E. Ah, I have gone too far, and cannot now return. 
{Taking Adeda's hand.) During an awful storm, some sixteen 
years ago, while your loved uncle was at sea, a ship, o'erthrown 
by fiercest blast was wrecked before his eyes. With desperate 
efforts they essayed to succor those on board. One struggling 
seaman only, wounded, bruised, insensible, was saved. Clasped 
in his faithful arms was firmly held a child, pale, cold and pulse- 
less, but the sailor's zealous efforts brought its stifled breath back 
to the tiny lungs, while that brave man to whom she owed her 
life, breathed never more. A belt upon the infant tightly clasped, 
held the scant clothing that the waves had spared, and this strange 
implement. Upon the clasp which held the belt, within a jewelled 
wreath — a single word was traced. 

Ade. What word dear aunt? 

Madam E. A tender word; to utter it — wrings from my heart 
what ne'er can be replaced, only thy name, Adeda. 

Ade. Merciful heaven, 'tis all too plain. I have no aunt, no 
niece am I — merely a nameless waif that clung in utter helpless- 
ness to fond compassion; without the slightest claim upon the 
patient love that guided all my early wayward days. 

Madam E. Ah, no, my niece, no father's fondest love could 
e'er exceed that which your uncle gladly gave to you. And mine ! 
— Adeda needs no words to learn its depths. 

Ade. And you are still my own dear aunt; what constant, 
boundless gratitude I owe. 

Madam E. Each shadowy clew was traced with utmost care to 
learn your parentage. Like cries from those in mountain canyons 
lost, vague echoes only came to mock our inquiries. The belt in 
some mysterious way was stolen; nothing remains from that most 
piteous wreck save this (taking dagger) and our Adeda. 

Ade. {Looking intently at dagger.) Oh, thou strange instru- 
ment, only thy slender blade between Adeda and oblivion. Far- 
craf? Farcraf? Dear aunt whence came that name? 

Madam E. Punctured, as is the seaman's wont, upon the faith- 
ful, toil-worn hand that grasped your belt, in clasp that death 
itself could not relax, was found the name of Farcraf; — this, your 
good uncle gave at once to you. 

Ade. Ah ! never more, on brawny hands by honest labor 
stamped, may your Adeda's eyes unheeding rest ! 

Madam E. The fond illusion that you were my sister's child 
has slowly grown upon my heart with touching tendrils number- 
less; I cannot bear to tear it all away and tell the world you are 
no relative of mine. Let me entreat that no one, save yourself , 



14 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT I. 

should know these torturing truths, and my brief years be spared 
such agony. 

(Exit Madam Egrafarge.) 

Ade. How I long to meet the good Ordadro— to tell him all 
that I have learned — so much, and yet so very little — But my 
kind aunt's injunction — Ah, can this telltale face impound such 
revelation? — That fete to-night — how can I go — yet I must see 
Ordadro — and Dramard — he was in all my thoughts — then had I 
never heard Ordadro 's voice. Thus turbulently thinking but o'er- 
whelms me, as did the seas that fatal ship. To the Indian maid 
(looking at dagger) these shadowy shapes were real — Thou gentle 
image that doth call to mind the Savior's love, 0, tell me of my 
parents' fond affection. What relatives of mine have looked into 
these jewelled eyes? Was it a trembling mother's hand that 
clasped her belt uj3on the helpless child and placed it in the noble 
sailor's charge? — Perhaps my father had ere then been swept to 
the relentless ocean's depths. Why could I not have clung to 
them? What history dost thou imprison? Hast thou no message 
for my hungry heart, no little word of all that thou couldst tell ? 
Give me — thou tempting blade — some intimation from the Spirit 
land, lest one determined thrust send my freed soul as messenger 
from thee. 

Close in. 

End of Scene III. 



ACT I. Scene IV. 

Scene IV. — Squirrel's Gave. 

Hallah, Enelene, Girdrig, Anyna and other peasant youths and maidens 
dancing. Indian*, peasants and negroes in the background. 

Ene. What a beautiful church Father Ordadro will make of this 
old cave; but, (with a shudder) they tell me it is haunted. 

Hal. Oh, no we have explored it even to the squirrel's home. 
We saw no ghosts. 

Ene. Dramard said an altar would be placed against that wall, 
how lovely it would be. But then — the ghosts. 

Hal. Ah, don't be frightened. You'd hardly like to come here 
all alone. 

Ene. Well— no— not to the altar all alone. 



SCENE IV.] 



THE SPANISH PRIEST. 



15 



Gird. What a heap of talk. Let's have another dance. 
Ene. Oh, no, let's have a song. 
All. A song, a song. 
Dod. (Sings:) 



1. 
Dare was a gentle maiden, 

Dat owned a hansum flat, 
Who nebber had a lubber 

But had a lubly cat ; 
And much she longed to marry, 

Do pruddish and all dat 
Dis longin', lubin' maiden 

Wid a beautus tortois cat. 



He called to court the maiden, 

As the poodle follered in 
De shaggy dog and tabby 

Jes raised an awful din ; 
Den each to stop their fightin' 

Took part in sad affright, 
He got a dreadful scratchin', 

She had a fearful bite. 



Der was a dapper fellow 

Wid a glossy shinin' head, 
Who had a lubly poodle 

Dat was purely pug nose bred : 
He nebber had a sweetheart, 

Do much he wished to wed, 
Dis fully forty feller, 

Wid a lap stone lookin' head. 

3. 
One day he met de maiden 

Wid her tortoise tabby cat, 
An' bof was much delighted, 

But he darsent raise his hat ; 
Dis fellow shallow pated, 

Longed for the maid an'flat : 
Do nothing he so hated 



At length this man and maiden 

Had almost come to blows. 
De cat clung to his bald pate, 

De dog snapped at her nose, 
He blanked her tearin' tomcat ; 

She said you wulger ] > j lt . 
Go take that pug nosed puppy 

And make yoursef a wig. 

6. 
Alas! the dog was martyred, 

Poor tabby's fate was sealed, 
De maid died broken hearted. 

His scalp was never healed. 
Den heed this timely warnin', 

All dose to wed inclined, 
Wheneber you go courtin', 

Leave all \ r our pets behind. 

with his mother, Adeda and 



As a petted purrin' cat. 
Enter Ordadro, Bernreb, Dramard 

X ELLEN. 

Ord. Kind friends, your joyous faces seem to light these gor- 
geous rooms, while nature's brilliant walls reflect a welcome that 
a prince would prize. 

Bern. Why was this called the squirrel's cave? 

Nel. Many ages since, a slender Osage band was here surprised 
by Shawnee braves; nearly o'ercome by much superior force, our 
warriors found a refuge in this cave, and held their hated enemies 
at bay; but hunger, more relentless still, drove them to desperate 
straits. At length from deadly guarded entrance far remote, 
they found a squirrel's store of winter food — more prized than 
fairest gems — and traced his narrow pathway to the welcome light. 
With broken pendants from these glistening walls, plied most 



16 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT I. 

assiduously, the little rodent's entrance was enlarged, when the 
freed captives, fiercely fell upon their unsuspecting foes, so sud- 
denly that few escaped. Since then the squirrel has been held in 
reverence, and this is called his cave. 

Ord. (Tb Bernreb.) Did you observe the fair Adeda? Such 
rare intelligence with wondrous grace and beauty in so young a 
maid would indicate her ancestors for many generations had 
possessed both wealth and cultivation. 

Bern. Such indications are deceptive, I knew them well. 
Lived near them by the sea. They were of peasant origin, her 
father lost by shipwreck, her mother, the fisher's wife, a kindly 
soul, soon died of grief, leaving the waif a few months old to her 
good aunt, the mother's sister, who reared and loved her as her 
own. 

Ord. In feature, manner, form and voice strangely dissimilar. 

(Adeda, coming forward with Nellen, gives her the dagger which she 
places in Ordadro's hands.) 

Net. This is Adeda's heirloom, is it not superbly jewelled? 

Ord. What a rare weapon, with exquisite perfection has been 
wrought this image of our Savior. The eyes seem luminous and 
changeable. That cruel spear is here recalled by bleeding Garnet, 
which the girdle holds. Like forms fantastic in the northern sky, 
gleam drifting shapes along the blade. The eye and touch that 
traced these clinging vines about the Savior's feet, saw not the 
leaves, but the great master's hand. Whence came this wondrous 
treasure? 

Bern. One Plotolp, in New York, a queer old man, made instru- 
ments like this. His defective sight discerned but dim confusion, 
save at two inches distance, when his eyes became as microscopes. 
A sly art in the polishing caused each observer's breath to trail 
like clouds across the steel. This must be one of those I saw 
them making in his shop. 

Ord. Engraven delicately — a monogram is here, wherein the 
letter C seems most conspicuous. 

Bern. 0, to be sure, I well remember now the letter C in those 
that I examined. 

(Adeda comes forward and receives dagger.) 

Ade. (Excitedly.) Good father, 1 am told you promised to 
recite a poem. Tell us some story of the ocean's fearful power, 
or noble deeds brave seamen dare, mid mountain waves, where 
sweep those storms inexorable. 



SCENE IV.] 



THE SPANISH PRIEST. 



17 



Ord. Fair maid, I fear my labored lines may hardly match 
thine improvising. 

(Ordadro recites. Adeda listens with intense interest. At intervals 

repeating a line.) 



Through all thy wide domain, 

Far reaching Sea, 
Have men, in contest vain, 

Striven with thee : 
Sweep thy long rolling waves, 
Over their piteous graves, 
Over unnumbered braves, 
Relentless Sea. 



Who can withstand thy grasp, 

Unyielding Sea? 
"Who rend thy chilling clasp, 

Who cope with thee? 
What though with courage rare 
Brave hearts did nobly dare, 
None would thy fierce waves spare, 

Insatiate Sea. 

(Adeda repeats.) 

3. 
In thy vast caverns deep, 

Unfathomed Sea, 
Wrapped in their endless sleep, 

Shrouded by thee, 
Lie, many a tender child, 
Strong man and matron mild, 
Under thy waters wild, 

Unfeeling Sea. 

4. 
Fond hearts with heavy fears 

Unheeding Sea, 
Await, too oft in tears, 

Friends trusting thee ; 



Long wait in lingering pain 
For those they ne'er regain, 
Loved ones whom thou hast slain, 

Thou torturing Sea. 

(Adeda repeats.) 
5. 
Numberless grass-grown graves, 

Most heartless Sea, 
Filled by thy hungry waves, 

Rest near to thee ; 
But 'neath thy swelling tide, 
Sleep more than all beside — 
O'er them thy mad storms ride 

Remorseless Sea. 

(Adeda repeats.) 
6. 
No monumental stone, 

Oh, ruthless Sea, 
With solemn requiem tone 

Is raised by thee. 
Weirdly the tempest raves, 
Moaning mid surging waves, 
Over thy cruel graves, 

Heart-rending Sea. 

(Adeda repeats.) 

7. 
But a far mightier hand, 

Presumptuous Sea, 
Ruling o'er sea and land, 

Gives bounds to thee. 
By Him thy storms are led ; 
By Him whose voice hath said, 
Thou shalt give up thy dead, 

Thou proud-waved Sea. 



{Adeda swoons. Bernreb eagerly strives to obtain the dagger, which 
falls, but is prevented by Nellen, who places her foot thereon.) 

Curtain. 



End of Act I. 



18 



THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT II. 



ACT II. Scene I. 

Scene I. — Lawn in front of Madam Egeafarge's house (ttoo years later). 

(Dramard discovered.) 

Dra. (Writing.') The Northwest quarter of the Southeast 
quarter and the Northeast quarter of the South — Heavens, what a 
tract — the Northwest quarter of the — Confound the man who first 
invented this way of designating lands. 

Enter Enelene. 

Ene. Did you call, sir? 

Dra. Yes, I called. 

Ene. 0, Lordy I did'nt hear, and came as quickly as I could. 

Dra. Called loudly too, for patience— and other things I had 
no business to call for. Where is Adeda, I think she can help me. 

Ene. Can't I help you? 

Dra. What, you help designate lands? 

Ene. Lordy no, if I could only desecrate the house, I leave 
the land to men folks. 

Dra. Do you know where Adeda is? 

Ene. She had'nt got home an hour, after being gone two years, 
before she went off to see that Indian girl. goody, goody, here 
comes Hallah. 
(Enter Hallah, excitedly, with Girdrig equipped for hunting. 

Girdrig offers to shake hands with Ene., who does not see him.) 

Hal. Dramard — Dramard, there is a fine band of buffalo a 
short distance out, get ready as soon as possible — Let's go for 
them. Be in a hurry. 

Dra. The Northeast quarter — 

HaL Hang all the quarters. We'll have glorious sport, 

Through the forest, and over the plain, 
With lofty toss of his flowing mane, 
And nostrils swelling in proud disdain, 
My gallant charger speeds. 

Give me your rifle, I will be loading, hurry. Hurrah! 
Gird. Don't forget your hunting knife. 
Hal. Forget nothing, but hurry. 
Gird. Enelene forgets nothing. 

(Enelene evidently slighted.) 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 19 

Hal. Girdrig, you sit there as if there were no buffaloes within 
a thousand miles. Hullo, good morning Enelene, you look as 
handsome as — as — handsome as a buffalo. 

Ene. You are as ugly as a buffalo. Can you sing the buffalo 
song? 

Hal. We have no time, hurry Dramard, huriy. 

Gird. As Oldlo says, you have all there is. 

Dra. True, and it's a thing you can't send out and buy. 

Hal. Were the price a shilling for a century, my funds would 
hardly buy a short ten minutes wait — hurry. 

Ene. Please sing the buffalo hunting song. 

Hal. (Sings, all joining in the chorus.) 



Across the rolling prairie, 
Our coursers prancing gayly, 
The bison band we near 
And charge with lusty cheer, 
In wildest cadence singing, 
With ^countless hoof beats ringing, 



Ah, naught can joy bestow \^^ 

Like hunting buffalo ; J 

We chase with steed 

At fleetest speed, 

The lordly buffalo; 

With furious steed 

At fleetest speed 

The ponderous buffalo. 



2. 

Our frenzied chargers spurring, 
The maddest risks incurring, 

With muscle, eye and brain 

All roused to utmost strain, 
Our ready rifles aiming, 
Each shot a bison claiming, 

In thrilling joy we glow j ^^ 

As fall the buffalo. J 

We charge with steed 

At swiftest speed, 

The ponderous buffalo, 

With dauntless steed, 

At headlong speed, 

We chase the buffalo. 



(Rash off ^swinging gun*.) 
Exeunt. 



20 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT II. 

Lawn at residence of Madam Egrafarge. 
Adeda and Nellen enter. (Adeda at easel drawing.} 

Ade. The Reverend Priest Ordadro still remains? 

Nel. He does, and gains in influence daily; commands respect 
from all, and leads to nobler, better lives. In the squirrel's cave 
an altar has been placed, with pictures of the Holy Virgin, and of 
many saints, blessed by the Pope. 

Ade. I remember well the magic words he uttered there two 
years ago; surely no sermons can compare with his. 

Nel. Dramard admires him much, still those grand truths to 
him are visionary. 

Ade. It cannot be that he grows unbelieving. 

Nel. Alas, 'tis true, he thinks far more of land and all that he 
calls tangible. (Moving as if to withdraw.) 

Ade. 0, you speak of Dramard, my thoughts were then upon 
Ordadro. 

Nel. Dramard is often absent, time moves but slowly when he 
is not here. Farewell. 

Ade. Farewell, kind friend. (Exit Nellen.) 

Ade. This garnet in the Savior's girdle seems to hold a crimson 
drop. Turn now the weapon as I may, the same ensanguined 
globule keeps its place ; so marked it is my contradicting touch is 
scarce accredited. Thus on my heart has slowly grown a treas- 
ured image, turn as I may, there is it firmly held, ever about to 
go, but never shaken off. At times when striving for its banish- 
ment, I shudder lest it fall. 

Enter Ordadro. 

Ade. Father Ordadro ! 

Ord. Most gladly is Adeda welcomed home. How have I 
missed thee ! 

Ade. Only the closest study could assuage Adeda's longing for 
her home — and friends. 

Ord. (Looking at easel.) Your drawing of an ocean storm is 
very striking; why should the sea so much engross your thoughts? 

Ade. I have heard a story of the ocean's cruel wrath, wherein 
a noble sailor, crushed amid a shattered wreck, still strove to save 
a helpless child. Rigid was found the generous hand, that grasped 
the infant's belt, past all relaxing, yet the child was saved. That 
struggling seaman's face besieges in my dreams. 

Ord. Framed in your vivid words the touching scene seems 
real. 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 21 

Ade. A painting that I much desire to own, though far beyond 
my means, in part the scene portrays. My tastes too often over- 
run my slender purse. 

Ord. 'Tis said content takes leave where taste and means con- 
tend. I trust Adeda may not lose so rare a prize. 

Ade. Ah, no, tbe saying is not always true, for generous taste, 
with skilful care, will often gain sweet-faced content. 

Ord. Beyond all thought of compass, gleams before my eager 
soul a vision beatific. Teach me such skilful care; that which I 
fain would gain, sweet-faced content itself might envy. 

Ade. As province of our sex, to learn far more becomes, than 
would the teaching you implore. 

Ord. Thou fairest of the fair, celestial must have been thy 
birth. Who in thy lovely presence can remain unmoved? ( Taking 
Adeda's hand.) 

Ade. The Reverend Father over-borne by swiftly thronging 
human thoughts, the sacred obligations of his holy office, doth — 
perchance — forget. 

Ord. Ah, may the incarnation of dear purity divine, keep from 
my heart all stainful thought, and make its innocence as clear as 
that which shines refulgent in thy glance. 

Ade. Adeda trusts thy prayer sincere. The truthful eyes that 
meet her frankest gaze can surely never harbor wrong. 

Ord. Why should the priest crush out the pure absorbing love 
that would enthrall his soul with rapture, and make all earth and 
air instinct with radiant joy? 

Ade. Is there more noble use for boundless love than teaching 
great and generous action, guiding less thoughtful souls to see 
the beautiful in virtue, truth and charity; leading to joys 
immortal ? 

Ord. Thy glorious words grow larger than they mean, as if, 
with tones inspired, thy voice had grasped those joys, to lavish 
them, as spring her flowers, on all about thee. Adeda, I love thee. 
! how I love thee ! heaven that gave thy wondrous charms can- 
not condemn for loving thee. 

Ade. May not thy calling's ponderous wall, whose shadow 
chills the rapture from thine ardent words, shut out such sweet 
regard? 

Ord. What are all callings when compared with that supreme 
regard which only heaven itself can give. 'Tis greater, stronger, 
than aught else beneath the sun. Of all the Deity hath made for 
man, the grandest gift, is noble, holy, love. This binds my 
throbbing heart immutably to thee. 



22 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT II. 

Ade. My grateful ears, despite remonstrance, grant their blush- 
ing welcome to thy glowing words. 
Ord. Adeda ! 
Ade. Ordadro ! 

Curtain. 

End of Scene I. 



ACT II. Scene II. 

Scene II. — Squirrel's Cave. 

(Enter Bernreb itith caution. < 'lothing slightly soiled.) 

Bern. To meet Adeda in this wretched state would be disastrous. 
But I have found their squirrel's entrance — (Looks about, finds place 
of concealment back of column). This is the realm of that most 
innocent of priests, and here will I await him. When with his 
fellows — each is but — what he would have them estimate. Alone, 
and only so, is every man sincere. Bending in prayer, Ordadro 's 
soul, bare, undisguised, will here be open to my vision; — and if 
my vague suspicions are confirmed — (Half draws dagger.) — That 
quiet altar looks reproachfully at this infernal sacrilege. (Puts 
away dagger and crosses himself.) Adeda's prayers are offered here. 
So fair she is — so pure and beautiful — that I forget her fortune, 
dreaming of Adeda — my Adeda! heaven that I were free, 
— and innocent — at that sweet altar with Adeda, I might be a man 
again. (Covers face ivith hands.) Bah! enough of this, infatuate 
fool. Ah, the priest is surely coming now. — If that fair maid is 
lost to me — then shall they think the very deil himself inhabits 
here. (Drawing dagger.) Rather than see a fellow-man possess 
Adeda — though it might plunge my soul — down to perdition — I 
would, in her fair breast, with grinding teeth, exulting thrust this 
murderous steel. (Starts.) This must be the priest — Now let 
my ear and weapon both be keen. 

Enter Adeda and Enelene (with flowers). 

Ade. How beautiful this consecrated cave. 

Ene. I think it's awful. (Putting down basket and crossing 
herself.) Miss Adeda, I wish Hallah was here. I'm so afraid. 
This dreadful cave is haunted. (Starting.) There! there! I 
heard something. There's lots of dead old Indians in here. 
There, — there — Don't stay Miss Adeda, don't stay here. 



SCENE II.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 23 

Ade. Do not be alarmed, more justly may we fear ourselves 
than any ghost in this dear sanctuary. Give me the open wreath. 

Ene. Bless my soul, I can't find it. For sure it isn't in the 
basket. I must have left it. 

Ade. What, the large wreath for Raphael's painting? 

Ene. It's too bad. I forgot it. Shall I go and bring it? You 
can't stay here alone. lordy no. 

Ade. Never fear for me good girl. Go, bring the wreath. 

(Exit Enelene making sign of cross, etc.) 

Ade. How wonderful this speakin'g silence. Ordadro's magic 
words still seem to cling about these graceful crystal arches. 
Ordadro worships here, and here the penitent forget their woes, 
borne on his thrilling tones up to the Savior's radiant throne 
of joy — ( Bernreb is seen threatening or imploring.) (Starting.) 
Did I not hear a step? (Listens.) Ah, no — surely naught 
that lives can be so base as here to do a wrong. How hath 
Ordadro made these touching emblems tell, of truth and love and 
purity, Ordadro noblest one, all things however great or good, 
become exalted in thy hands. — Again I seem to hear a step, — and 
yet, there is no sound, — Tis naught — That which informs the 
Indian maid of dangers near would send Ordadro as Adeda's 
shield, should peril come. 

(Arranging flowers about altar, chanting.) 

Enter Ordadro. 

Ord. Dearest Adeda. 

Ade. Ordadro, long before thy welcome step's approach, 
forebodings o'er me swept, then throbbed the thought, Ordadro 
comes, and in my bounding heart each joyful beat gave glad 
assurance of thy swift advance. 

Ord. That wondrous, thoughtful, timeless, spaceless, force — 
through earth and air, resistless, permeate, that bursts each bud, 
and guides the fall of leaf, or foot, or flash of wing, with mandate 
touch, unfelt, on every human hand, or wish — has brought 
Ordadro at Adeda's need. 

Ade. Clasping thy trustful hand, what should Adeda wish, or 
fear. 

Ord. As thy lithe form was poised, to bind sweet flowers, and 
o'er these emblems spread thy fragrant blooms, so fair thou art, 
it seemed an angel dream. 

Ade. Most grateful task, to deck the altar where thy prayers 
ascend. 



24 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT II. 

Ord. Only to humbler minds these emblems serve as guides ; 
we need no aid, for our full souls may grasp the mightier truths 
and form a part of this vast universe of love. Ah, what to us are 
forms, or laws of men? Are we not one in endless, holy love?" 
Kneel thou with me, while I shall place this ring upon thy hand, 
emblem of our immortal love. 

Ade. To thee Adeda gives her holy love. 

Ord. Here in this awful presence we our truthful hearts and 
hands each to the other pledge, in sacred love, while our rapt souls- 
are joined eternally. 

Ade. In endless, sacred love. 

Ord. May heaven, sole witness of this solemn scene, it's choic- 
est blessings grant. 

(Bernreb is seen in agony and wrath.) 

Curtain. 
End of Act II. 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 25 



ACT III. Scene I. 

Scene I.. — Bernreb's House. 

Bernreb, Cardrac and Dod disclosed. B. and C. playing cards. 
(Cigars, glasses, etc.) 

Bern. Confound your luck Cardrac. Three negroes lost. You 
never lose, that is when aught of value is at stake. 

Card. No intimations. You yourself may deal. 

Bern. (Shuffling cards.) The negro woman Lil against the 
boy? 

Card. Stake but your mortgage deed against three slaves and 
I will play. 

Bern. Not with me, no Cardrac. I will not pledge my claim 
on Madam Egrafarge. 

Card. I stake four slaves against that mortgage deed. 

Bern. One thousand dollars more and I will play. 

Card. Agreed. Here's half the sum and for the rest I pledge 
my slaves. (Bernreb hesitates, looking alternately at deed and 
money.) Plank down the deed, the banter was your own. 

Bern. But I must deal? 

Card. You may deal and you shall deal fairly too. 

Bern. (After dealing.) Just my luck! 

Card. Pass. 

Bern. The club's turned down. 

Card. Then hearts are trumps. (They play.) 

Bern. With hearts I never win. 

Card. The mortgage on the Egrafarge estate — is mine. 

Bern. (Springing up, grasping the deed and drawing a pistol.) 
I'll never give it up. 

(Cardrac also springs up and draws a pistol. Bernreb fires and 
advances with a dagger.) 

Dod. lordy, lordy! 

Exit Dod. 

Card. Halt! A single step is death. Ah, sir, you missed 
your mark. Put down that mortgage deed. 

Bern. Well now, Cardrac, I am told you are generous, you have 
won my negroes, let me keep the deed; you little know how much 
it is to me. If you have a wife — 



26 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT III. 

Card. A wife ! Who told you that I had a wife? We'll 
settle this at once. Your only witness saw your shot at me, now 
you will do as I shall bid. 

Bern. Well, well. I submit — but, — but — I won't give up the 
deed. 

Card. Bernreb beware, (drawing another pistol) you know my 
skill. This left hand aim shall crush the flask above your head. 
(Cardrac shatters flask. Bernreb startled drops dagger.) First, 
you will remember that I have no wife. And now put down that 
deed. Put down that mortgage deed. (Bernreb reluctantly puts 
down the deed, which Cardrac eagerly grasps.) 

Bern. You've won both slaves and deed. Now shoot me and 
be done. 

Card. (Puts deed in envelope.) Ah! this shall gain my price- 
less pearl! Keep the negroes, cringing hound, but mark me well, 
Bernreb will never breathe one word of Cardrac's wife. 

Exit Cardrac. 

Bern. (Looking at pistol .) 0, thou false friend! Why did I 

trust to thee? More whisky, Dod, more whisky. (It is brought 

and B. drinks.) Fool, fool! consummate fool! (Drinks until 

excited but not intoxicated.) Bernreb is worse than fool! — (To the 

glass.) Ah, this! this! this it is that ruins all! (Dashes glass 

against wall. ) 

Exit Bernreb. 

End of Scene I. 



ACT III. Scene II. 

Scene II. — Madam Egraparge's Residence {Lawn). 

Adeda and Cardrac discovered. 

Card. Exceedingly do I regret not having met your kind aunt, 
Madam Egrafarge, for I soon journey southwardly. This package 
will I leave for her. 

Ade. Thanks neighbor Cardrac, and in her hands it shall at 
once be placed. (Taking package.) 

Card. To part from all the sunshine of this lovely home, is not 
to me an idle task, I could not go without first taking leave of you 
Adeda. 

Ade. I trust your journey may be prosperous, on your return 
as with our many friends, we shall be glad to welcome you again. 



SCENE II.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 27 

Card. Thanks for your promise, yet could I wish — more 
cordial greeting — than you grant — to all —your many friends. 

Ade. Assuredly, most cordial is the welcome we extend to all. 

Card. Would that my welcome, — were but more than all. 

Ade. Should grasping friendship be more highly prized? 

Card. With generous friendship would I grasp the prize, nor 
curb the welcome that extends to all. 

Ade. A steed o'er driven may not need the curb. 
• Card. Beauteous Adeda, would you see a wounded bird 
beating its useless wings, in vain attempt at flight, almost beneath 
your hands? 

Ade. A bird thus fluttered at a maiden's feet; in pity for its 
pain she gave a few brief days' protection and the wings were 
healed, when, with a joyful burst of song, it sped away, and never 
more returned. 

Card. For truant's flight retracive, did the maid, — with slightest 
longing, — never — kindly — glance? 

Ade. Ah, no? for who would keep him from a fitting mate? 

Card. Though not with joy, yet asking blessings on Adeda 
still — I take my leave. 

Ade. Thanks, and farewell, good friend, farewell. 

Exit Cardrac. 

Now, like that glad recovered bird % my thoughts, on swift rejoic- 
ing wings, speed to Ordadro. 

1. 

Ah, vain were Apollo — Latona's delight — 
So peerless in person, and music and might, 
Though, gracefully agile, he "sprang to the light," 
For fondly my heart and most proudly my hand, 
Have I pledged to Ordadro. Ordadro the grand. 



So majestic thy form and benignant thy face, 
Thy mien so exalted, yet instinct with grace, 
That the stamp of thy rank is the Deity's trace, 
And there needs neither patent or title nor land 
To render thee noble, Ordadro the grand. 



Like the flash of an arrow, or vehement flight 

Of a far gleaming meteor, whose star dimming light, 

With swift streaming glory enkindles the night, 

So speed all my thoughts at love's thrilling command 

To the noble Ordadro, Ordadro the grand. 



28 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT III. 

Enter Madam Egrafarge. 

Ade. Ah, dear aunt, Mr. Cardrac called, and regretting that 
you were away, has left this package. 

Mad. E. Thanks. (Opens the package and reads.) "Dear 
"Madam, learning that the Bernreb mortgage, encumbering your 
"estate had proved a source of much anxiety, both to yourself and 
"friends, it has, perchance, with more than neighbor's liberty, 
"been purchased for your own account, and is herewith enclosed 
"with full release from all its liabilities. If at some future time 
"you should desire to reimburse the sum, it can be done; mean- 
" while the writer trusts you may await request therefor. With 
"great respect, your friend and servant, Cardrac." 

Ade. Thoughtful, kind, polite and wondrous generous, but Ah, 
me ! My trivial words and blind ingratitude ! 

Mad. E. Unspeakably I thank him, yet is the obligation far 
too large. I know not what to do. 

Ade. What sorrows center in a mortgage deed? 

Mad. E. 'Tis said he has become a gambler, what if he next 
should ask your hand? 

Ade. That can be thought upon, when — he shall ask, my 
dearest aunt — I cannot think he is dishonest, his conduct seems 
so gentlemanly kind. Alas, how can the generous sum be paid? 

Exit Adeda. 

Mad. E. Adeda wed a gambler ! Impossible. I should almost 
as soon expect her to be married to a priest. 

(Close in.) 
End of Scene II. 



ACT III. Scene III. 

Scene III. — Priest's house. 

(Ordadro writing at table.) 
Ord. How can I bind my thoughts at duty's call? On every 
page I read Adeda. My pen shapes that fond word unwittingly. 
(Moves about.) The very air breathes of Adeda's love — Adeda! 
Each sound of gladness speaks thy name. All things of beauty 
but enfold thy form. Material nature's boundless charms from 
thy dear image seem to gain ethereal joys. (Takes paper from table 
and reads.) 



SCENE III.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 29 

1. 

Thou lovely Adeda 

My heart's fondest treasure 
To meet thee again, how I ardently long; 
Our bosoms shall thrill with a joy beyond measure, 

Your hand's gentle pressure 

Enhancing each pleasure, 
While chanting together in love's glowing song, 

fairest Adeda 

In love's glowing song. 



Ah ! dearest Adeda 

Thou infinite treasure 
To love thee, my angel, can never be wrong, 
With a love as ennobling, as boundless in measure : 

We will worship together, 

Most exquisite pleasure ! 
Our full souls exulting in rapturous song, 

O, lovely Adeda 

In rapturous song. 

(Puts down paper.) (Enter Nellen.) 

Net. Father Ordadro. 

Ord. Welcome kind Nellen. I trust you are not ill? This 
wearied voice tells of your patient vigils far too much prolonged. 

Nel. Our friend, the injured miner does not gain, and may 
to-night find his release from earthly pain. The good physician 
thinks, should he awake at six, the same sad symptoms still con- 
tinuing, there could be little hope of his recovery, and bade me 
ask your kind attendance at that hour. 

Ord. I will come. This constant care is sorely wearing, Nellen 
herself must need repose. 

Nel. 0, no; for what were mere fatigue while such a helpless 
sufferer lies, with neither faith or thought at last extreme? The 
teachings of our holy church seem naught, truthful and upright 
though he is, — and unbelieving goes — to his appalling fate ! 
Farewell. 

Ord. And goes, — to his appalling fate! Appalling fate! At 
six I will assuredly attend. Farewell. 

Exit Nellen. 
His appalling fate ! — And can I ask the dying to believe or perish? 
— Accept perdition guarded creed, as voice of Deity? What 
throngs of fierce besieging doubts assail a thinking soul ! Teach 
faith though reason may revolt? — ascribe to Him the halting words 
of man? — delude with joys unearned, or griefs as undeserved? — 



30 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT III. 

debase the infinite to our restricted thought, and deem the uni- 
verse as solely made for human molecule on this bare needle point 
of Globe?— Remorseless fate ! 0, why am I a priest? (Removes 
priestly robe disclosing Spanish costume. Takes up sword.) Sword 
of my ancestors ! Never drawn in an ignoble cause, though 
bravely borne on many a well-contested field, with my full health 
and restless strength, in righteous cause, how could I wield thy 
gleaming blade, — did not that fatal vow debar. — What would I 
do? — May I set up my puny thought against the solemn edicts of 
our holy church? Truths sealed with blood a thousand times? 
Those awful truths for which the church proclaims the Son himself 
hath died? Never, no, never ! From this time forth I will be 
loyal to the voice of Rome. But Adeda — loved Adeda — must I 
give thee up? Farewell ambition— (Th rows away sword.) Fare- 
well all glorious independent thought. (Resumes priest's robe. 
Goes to the table, takes up paper just read.) Adeda! Dearest 
Adeda! can I give thee up?— Ah, what have I to do with human 
love, whose only thought should be to save men from unending 
woe, — thus from my heart's core do I tear thy beauteous image! 
— ( Tears up paper. ) Thus crush it to oblivion ! ( Stamps on paper. ) 

Enter Adeda. 

Ade. Ordadro! 

Ord. 0, heaven have mercy — have mercy! 

Ade. Ordadro! what evil hath befallen thee? 

Ord. Kind heaven my path direct, and aid me in this awful 
hour. 

Ade. Thou hast no sorrow that Adeda may not share. 

Ord. Thy words seem daggers in my censuring breast, thy 
gentle tones but stings of fierce remorse. 

Ade. No desperate pain can wring thy tortured soul, that thine 
Adeda's longing heart may not assuage. Ordadro! dost thou 
shrink from me? 

Ord. Go ! 

Ade. Adeda go ! heard I aright? 

Ord. Yes go! O! go. Come thou not here — leave me — not in 
anger, — but go. go! and let me never, never see thy lovely 
face again. 

Ade. Angry ! Pierced by thy cruel words, this writhing 
anguish leaves but narrow space for anger. — Spurned! Spurned! 
Adeda spurned? 

Curtain. 

End of Scene and Act. 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 31 



ACT IV. Scene I. 

Scene I. — Forest Scene on the Bank of thr Mississippi. 
Bernreb and Girdrig discovered. 

Bern. You are mistaken Girdrig, Enelene does not care a fig 
for Hallah, it is the priest she loves. 

Gird. no, I tell you again, I know it's Hallah. Ah! if we 
could get "shut" of him I should be solid with the gal. 

Bern. That crafty priest is all that bars your way. Don't 
quarrel foolishly with Hallah whom she does not love, and — he 
shoots most excellently. 

Gird. I don't care ""shucks" for that. We'll have a fair, 
square fight, the one that wins shall take the gal. 

Bern. Girdrig, a man moves straight to gain his end, a woman 
more by indirection acts; so Enelene, who loves the priest would 
have you think 'twas Hallah. 

Gird. 0, it's Hallah, Father Ordadro said almost as much. 

Bern. Hum — Father Ordadro ! You little know that priest ! 

Gird. Ah, don't I know him well? The kindest, best of men. 
He wrote these lines to Enelene for me. Shall I sing them? 
{Produces paper.) 

Bern. O, no, no. 

{Taking the paper, Bernreb reads). 

COME TO ME, DARLING. 
(A Love Song.) 

1. 
Come to me, come to me, 
Longing I wait for thee, 
Come to me dearest delight of my eyes, 
Think of my loneliness, 
. Come with thy loveliness, 
Enelene Darling, dear gift from the skies. 

2. 

Come to me trustfully, 

Waiting so wistfully, 
Lonely and longing while thou art not near, 

Come like fair violet blooms, 

Robed with loves rare perfumes 
Joyously come to me, darling so dear. 

Gird. My Enelene. 



32 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT IV. 

Bern. 3. 

How my heart pleads for thee, 

Loved one so dear to me, 
Fondly entreating to meet thee once more, 

Heed thou its wistfulness, 

Come with thy blissfulness, 
Come to me Enelene, come I implore. 



Come like the spring's coming, 

Radiant with blossoming, 
Dimly portraying the wealth of thy charms, 

Come in thy gentleness, 

Beaming with tenderness, 
Come to me darling, O come to my arms. 

Bern. For you that lying priest writes Enelene — while — 
(turning aside) with wailing soul he pleads — as do I — Adeda, my 
darling, O, come I implore. 

Gird. I know not what you mean. 

Bern. Ah ! foolish boy to bear for villain priest his lines of love 
to Enelene. That scoundrel priest laughs in his sleeve while you 
poor dupes would fight for his sweet Enelene. 

Gird. Can that be true? 

Bern. True love was always blind. You'll surely lose the 
maid. 

Gird. I never dreamed of that. By heavens (bringing up rifle) 
he shall not have my gal. 

Bern. Now mark my words, your Enelene will daily go, with 
books or flowers, or some excuse, to see his reverence. Look 
closely to the priest. 

Gird. Ah never fear, I'll watch the pious fraud. (Swinging 
rifle.) 

Bern. But don't be rash, for, should you shoot the priest, it 
would be thought he had been killed by Indians, I would not have 
them charged unjustly with the crime. 

Gird. hang the Indians. Hang the Indians. If he comes 
between me and my gal I'll make priests scarce. 

Exit Gird. 

Bern. Come to me darling ! Come to me gosling. Thou silly 
cat's paw, scorched in blundering wrath ! Well have I braced thy 
nerves to do the deed — to do the deed ! Ah ! would the deed were 
done, the priest were dead. 

Exit Bernreb. 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 33 

Enter Enelene. 

Ene. I wish she had'nt sent me for that old teacher. Madam 
needn't feel so bad about Adeda's marrying. He's right nice 
looking. I'd have taken him. Most any husband is better than 
being lonely. Nobody gets the one they want. I just know I'll 
have to take Girdrig. 

Enter Bernreb. 

Bern. Why Enelene, how do you do — ha — ha — I'm glad to 
see you looking — 

Ene. Stop that, I don't allow any man to chuck me under the 
chin. Leastways without they are better looking than you are. 
You've no call to be chucking folks under the chin. 

Bern. To be sure Enelene, well never mind, but you are so 
fresh and handsome this morning. I — 

Ene. Nobody can say that to you, and I want no palaverin', I 
have been two or three times to tell you that Madam Egrafarge 
wants to see you. 

Bern. Indeed, but I have been absent. For what does the 
Madam desire to see me? 

Ene. Well you see Miss Adeda has run away — 

Bern. Adeda run away? 

Ene. Yes, and she's married. 

Bern. Married, good heavens! To — to — 
' Ene. 0, Lordy, Mr. Bernreb, what's the matter, you don't 
look like you wanted to chuck nobody under the chin. 

Bern. Yes, 3 7 es, but who did she marry? 

Ene. 0, my ! but I never seen a man change like that. 

Bern. But my good girl, who did Adeda marry? 

Ene. She's married to Cardrac 

Bern. No, no, don't say that, not married, and to Cardrac. 

Ene. Yes she is, leastways that's what they all say, and Madam 
Egrafarge is just sick about it, and sent me for Father Ordadro. 
But he's got a fever and can see nobody, my goodness Mr. Bern- 
reb how you look. 

Bern. That gambling fiend has won, — my money, Enelene: 
it makes me wild with rage even to hear his name. There go, go 
tell Madam Egrafarge that I shall come directly — go, say I will 
•come at once. 

Ene. You must have played for mighty big stakes to take on 
like that. My ! how he looks. 

Exit Enelene. 



34 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT IV. 

Bern. Lost, lost, Adecla lost, and Cardrac wins — what is life 
to me? That artful villain shrewdly played the fatal mortgage, 
her lofty spirit and her aunt's distress, until the maid was gained. 
I should have killed him e'er it came to this. But stop — she can- 
not love him while Ordadro lives. To earth's remotest end will I 
pursue them — I will not give Adeda up,— that infernal fiend, — if 
he shall love Adeda, then will I harrow all his soul with stories of 
Ordadro, and to Adeda will I swear that Cardrac's former wife still 
lives — perchance I yet may part them — but, — if — all else shall 
fail, by the eternal, Cardrac dies. 

Close in. 

End of Scene I. 



ACT IV. Scene II. 

Scene II. — Forest Scene on the Bank of the Mississippi. Two Weeks Later. 

Girdrig discovered. 

Gird. (Watching and waiting.) How long it is now since the 
reverend father has been out. And can a rascal be so generous 
and kind? But still, as Bernreb said, the gal finds daily errand to 
the priest. Oh here she comes, and what a lovely face. Con- 
found that priest — those flowers are for him. (Conceals himself^) 
It's awful mean to watch, but I must know the worst. 

Enter Enelene. 

Ene. I'm dreadful lonely now that Hallah's gone, dear I 
can't help crying, for I don't believe he cares at all for me. But 
then he is so handsome. (Making a bouquet.) How pretty that 
would be pinned on his hunting coat. 

(Sings.) 

O'er the prairie swiftly streaming, 
On his gun the sunshine gleaming, 
Every feature gladly beaming, 

Hallah speeds a hunter free. 
While I wait in sorrow bending, 
All my songs in sadness ending, 
Songs with sobs too often blending 

Hallah never thinks of me ; 
All my thoughts to sadness tending, 

Hallah never dreams of me. 

It's just too bad for anything, he must have an Indian sweetheart. 
I will dry my eyes and try to never think of him again. Its awful 



SCENE II.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 35 

lonely, Adeda's gone, and Dod's gone, poor fellow it most broke 
his heart to leave his Ama, and Bernreb's gone, but that's good 
riddance— the old teacher! (Sign of serpent.) And Cardrac's 
gone. Now there is Girdrig, he's not gone; he's a fine brave 
fellow. He thinks lots of me, Girdrig, Girdrig? His name 
might sound right pretty in my song : 

(Sings.) 

Girdrig on his courser prancing, 
While his eyes with sunshine dancing 
Oft to me are kindly glancing, 

Gallant Girdrig brave and free ; 
Never more in sorrow bending, 
Songs with sobs no longer blending, 
I will sing with this glad ending 

Girdrig seems to care for me. 
All my songs to gladness tending, 
Girdrig surely cares for me. 
Gird. That's true ! 

Ene. 0! Lordy! (Startled. Drops basket scattering floivers.) 
Gird. (Sings.) 

Glorious song with joyous ending, 
Enelene does think of me. 
Ene. Why Girdrig! You — you mean, ugly thing you. — 
Gird. Ah! Enelene if you will only forgive me this time I 
will never, never (Gathering' up flowers) listen again. But — where 
are you going with all these flowers? 

Ene. Carrying them to Father Ordadro. 
Gird. Father Ordadro ! Hra — O ! yes — to the pious priest. 
Ene. Yes, what harm can be in that? 
Gird. (Much hurt.) 0, no harm, not the least harm. 
Ene. (Entreating.) Now Girdrig, pray what harm? 
Gird. You're always taking something to that old priest. 
Ene. He'll, be mighty old before you take any bod — anything 
to him. 

Gird. It would be an awful long while before —I'd be in love 
with him. 

Ene. Girdrig, Girdrig listen: Before she left Adeda made 
me promise her to daily take some of her choicest flowers to 
the reverend father's house. 

Gird. And — you — don't go to — see him for yourself? 
Ene. Indeed I don't. Why should I go? 

Gird. Enelene you are a jewel, a lovely jewel. Let me go 
with you to the priest? 

Ene. I do not know about, a call upon the priest, so very, very 
soon. 



36 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT IV. 

Gird. yes, yes come! I'll take the flowers, and I — I — have 
a ring. 

Ene. Ah! Girdrig not to-day. 
Gird. yes, yes. 

(Sings.) 

With our voices fondly blending, 

To the parson gladly wending, 

While our songs have this sweet ending, 

I will always live for thee ; 
Both. Enelene and Girdrig sending 

Gentle friends, their heartfelt blessing, 
Each to each it's joy extending, 

They will ever faithful be, 
Fondest hearts and voices blending, 

Will forever faithful be. 

Close in. 
End of Scene II. 



ACT IV. Scene III. 

Scene III. — Bernreb's Boom in a New Orleans Hotel. 
Bernreb and Dod Discovered. 

Bern. I am glad to meet you Dod, where is your master? 

Dod. 0, he's here in New Orleans:' they didn't stay long in 
Mobile. You — you ain't done sold Ama, Mars? 

Bern. No Dod; did you say your master and mistress were 
both well? 

Dod. Yes Mars : Misses was sorter sick and queer like 'fore 
they come here, you ought to see her now, so gay and fine, wid all 
dem jewels and fine silk dresses; but den her laugh has got a 
kinder creep in it Mars — 'tain't right Mars, someway 'tain't right. 

Bern. Does your Master treat her well? 

Dod. He's mouty proud on her, Mars, they's got the finest 
house and fixings you eber seed, and Mars Cardrac he jest shows 
her off like she was a queen, she's mouty smart; I hearn him 
tellin' he never seed no man as could play keerds like she do. 

Bern. Playing cards, — Adeda gambling! 

Dod. Mouty strange, ain't it? I say, Mars Bernreb, couldn't 
you git Mars Cardrac to buy Ama? He's got lots of money. I 
wouldn't mind nothin' else. 

Bern. Ah, Dod, that most desired seems seldom gained. 

Dod. Dat's so Mars, but jes' you try him. (Knock at door.) 

Bern. I will see, come to-morrow. Good-bye. 

Dod. Thank you kindly Mars, mornin'. (Exit Dod.) 



SCENE III.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 37 

Enter Waiter with card. 
Bern. {Reading card.) Cornanroc, Cornanroc, Heavens if — 
tell him — er— please show the gentleman up. 
Waiter. Yeser. 

Exit Waiter. 

Bern. Adeda's brother, by all that's merciful, one more infernal 
balk. Darkrad? None here have ever known me by that name. 
As Bernreb from Savannah he will not now suspect — hang it, I'll 
face it oat. 

Enter Lord Cornanroc 
Your servant sir. 

Ld C. Good morning Mr. — Bernreb is the name I think. 

Bern. It is. Will you be seated sir? I have your lordship's 
card. 

Ld. C. The landlord tells me that you have arrived but recently 
from Georgia, and I wish to learn about one Darkrad from that 
State. I trust you may excuse me for intruding. 

Bern. Most certainly, what was the name sir? 

Ld. C. Darkrad sir, Darkrad. A few years since he was in 
England looking up the Cornanroc estates, and had a belt upon 
the clasp of which our crest had been engraved, but became 
involved in some quite questionable acts, when suddenly he dis- 
appeared. 

Bern. Darkrad? I do not now remember to have heard ^he 
name. What was the man's appearance? 

Ld. 0. I don't remember him, but from description I should 
say about your stature, with no peculiarity save a way of saying, 
"to be sure" or some such phrase. 

Bern. Darkrad, Darkrad, the name does not occur to me, his 
occupation, do you know aught of that? 

Ld. C. Very little. Many years before, my parents with an 
infant child, had sailed from Havre for Havanna; the ship, though 
once observed along the Georgia coast, was never heard from 
more. As motive for thus tracing our affairs it was conjectured 
that he might have known of my lost relatives. 

Bern. Let me consider. Ah, yes, I remember now — a person, 
a merchant from Havanna. He was a partner in the firm of — of — 

Ld. C Can you not recall the firm? 

Bern. Ah, how annoying thus to lose a name! I met this 
Darkrad in Savannah, though I knew little of the man. He lived 
in Cuba where he soon returned. The firm seems past recalling, 
There are many Cuban vessels now in port, perhaps the informa- 
tion could there be obtained. 



38 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT IV. 

Ld. C. Though I have been there many times in this pursuit, 
if nothing further can be learned, then will I take the first ship for 
Havanna. Had my parents lived I surely would have learned the 
fact. But that dear sister may survive; how would I prize the 
slightest clue that led to knowledge of her fate. I will not, cannot 
give her up. The hope — the lifelong aspiration of my soul has 
been — my sister lives. Pardon me dear sir. Thanks for your 
kind assistance. Farewell good Bernreb. 

Bern. Would that I might more truly aid you, but I trust your 
zealous efforts yet may prove successful. Fare you well. 
Exit Lord Cornanroc. 

Bern. Shipped to Havanna! Great Heavens, should he find 
Adeda. Then were I better in my grave. A few bold, poisoned 
words, dropped in the ear of each, may separate that lovely one 
from Cardrac. Who Adeda is — no man shall know — until she's 
mine. Adeda! Ah, Adeda! Never, no never, while my breath 
shall last, will I resign thee to another. 

Exit Bernreb. 
End of Scene III. 



ACT IV. Scene IV. 

Scene IV. — Cardrac's parlors in New Orleans. Richly furnished, flowers, 

wines, fruits and cigars. (Adeda and Cornanroc playing euchre 

against Cardrac and Tranart. Renoner and Frederp 

against Sullus and Ludodul, at another 

table. All have money and glasses, 

except Adeda. Some smoke.) 

Card. Bring cigars. Your deal Tranart. 

Ld. C. On to-morrow I shall leave for Cuba, I will play but 
one more game. 

Card. Two hundred upon this. 

Ld. C. .Never beyond a limit fixed tempt fickle chance; I 
stake one hundred. 

Sul. Hm, I say Frederf they have preaching over there. 

Fred. Preaching — em, — it is your play. Renoner, — preaching? 

The clergymen soon will be left in the lurch, 

For few of them think as they teach, 
The brains of the nation are leaving the church 

And only the imbeciles preach. 

Lud. Ha, ha, I pass. Ten against you Sullus. 



SCENE IV.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 39 

Tran. Hearts are turned. 

Ld. C. The heart is not for me. 

Card. Pass. 

Ade. The heart is taken up. I play alone. 

Ld. C. (Taking glass and bowing to Adeda.) 

Though trusted not, thy partner trusts thee still, 
Ade. So fair a trust commands her highest skill. 

Card. Fifty that she does not win. 

Ld. C. Done! 

Card. Then play to that. (They play.) 

Ren. I sometimes write. Doubtless indifferently; but the 
rude product of my brain is of myself so much a part, that it was 
never bartered yet for gain. This is my fortune's final coin; 
should this be lost, then from my heart a bleeding fragment must 
be torn, and all my tender thoughts be grossly sold as merchan- 
dise. (They play.) 'Tis lost. Farewell. 

Card. Good bye, Renoner, my dear old fellow. 

(Exit Renoner.) 
Another fool in bleeding fragments. 

There is little to write that has never been read, 
There is less worth saying that has never been said. 

Ld. C. 'Tis lost. My limit now is reached. (Adeda and 
Lord Cornanroc rise from the table. Adeda takes a handful oj 
gold, from her husband's pile.) 

Ade. (To Lord C.) Ah, when the heart was turned I should 
have passed, and not so ventured with my partner's gold. 

Ld. C. Chance, chance, blind chance rules everywhere; with 
man as well as beast, one pampered steed in gorgeous trappings 
prances, while his starveling mate, in galling dray, drags weary 
days of agony. 

Ade. Do gorgeous trappings never mask the deeper agony? I 
know not why the money you have lost seems blistering in my 
hands. Let me restore this gold. 

Ld. C. To me 'tis nothing. Unheeded vanish hours or funds 
when lost so charmingly. But with your pardon, let me ask, how 
came so rare a flower, amid such noxious weeds? 

Ade. (Taking up a glass of wine, with forced laugh.) 

Drink, — drink,— while the pulses are glad, {Triumphantly.) 
For why should the heart of the winner be sad. 
Drink — aye drink, — lest — the — loser — go — mad. 

( With agony. Glass falls.) 

(Adeda moves to a large vase of flowers in agitation.) 



40 THE SPANISH PRIEST.' ACT IV. 

Waiter. (At entrance.) Supper waits. 

( All retire to dining-room except Adeda and Tranart, who moves as 

if to escort her. ) 

Tra. Ah, madam, I cannot tell how much it touches me to see 
you suffer thus; this is no place for you. 

Ade. Suffer? This is no place for me? What does this mean? 

Tra. Look not so proudly dearest friend, it means that I would 
save you from this wretched life, your husband — 

Ade. Sir you forget yourself. I am a wife, and will not hear 
my husband's censurer. (Enter Cardrac.) 

Card. (At entrance.) Will you sup with us. 

(Exit Tranart.) 

And what should cause this Tranart's touching interview? Or that 
excited pantomime where Cornanroc refused your proffered coin? 

Ade. First, Tranart's folly checked with scorn; not worth one 
moment's notice ; but for Lord Cornanroc ; entwining with his 
careless compliments, a softened echo clung unspoken in his- 
tender voice that reached my ears mysteriously, — like half forgot- 
ten, shadowy tones, in dreams, — as from some unknown source r 
that thrilled me strangely. I would most gladly have returned 
your gains from him. Yet was there never thought unworthy of 
your wife. 

Card. Adeda, 0, that I might more fully trust thee, for I need 
thine aid. 

Ade. Unjust, ungenerous man, with all thy wretched gambling 
daily heaped on my revolting conscience, when a recent envious 
tattler told of Cardrac 's former wife, lest I might learn that she 
still lived, I stopped my ears and thrust the theme detested from 
the threshold of my thoughts. 

Card. And if I now should tell you it was true, what then? 

Ade. What then? It is too horrible to think. When at that 
solemn altar, didst thou not before high Heaven swear, thou hadst 
no other wife? — When — crushed Adeda — rashly — married thee, — 
and though I could not promise all the love you wished, have I 
not ever been a true and faithful wife? 0, tell me that this bitter 
slander is not true ! 

Card. Who can go back, undoing that once done? For you 
Adeda one might venture Heaven itself. Together we may face 
the world, whatever sorrows come. 

Ade. Appalling and evasive words ; tell me, 0! tell me, that 
you have no other wife, — lest I may loathe myself and thee ! 

Card. Be cool Adeda, you yourself unconsciously drove out the 



SCENE IV.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 41 

early love I gave to my first wife. Some enemy incites her to 
harass me now, for I had left her. 

Ade. Thou base unpiteous man, what hast thou done? 

Card. No worse than being wedded to a priest. 

Ade. May heaven but help me now. I was not truly married 
to the priest. And you — 

Card. Ah well, keep cool, keep cool, Adeda dear, and with 
your skilful aid she can most surely be discarded. 

Ade. My aid? Aid to discard your lawful wife ! The woman 
you first fondly wooed and wed ! Adeda's aid to do so vile a 
deed? Thou foully perjured, despicable man. — Take thou these 
glittering baubles, — and take all this sordid gold that I would fain 
restore. {Throws down the gold and her jewels.) 

Card. But Adeda, dearest wife, Adeda, — 

Ade. No longer call me wife. Ah! what am I? (Going. 
Drawing dagger. ) 

Card. Adeda, 0, Adeda listen, 0, listen dearest, listen — 

Ade. Never, — No words. Not more repulsive in Adeda's eyes 
were Cardrac's ghastly skeleton, stark, fleshless, save for clinging,, 
reeking masses of decay. Thus do I loathe and leave thee. 

(Curtain.) 
End of Act IV. 



42 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT V. 



ACT V. Scene I. 

Scene I. — Madam Egrafarge's House at Urbru. 

(Evening.) Madam E. at secretary looking over papers. 
Bernreb at table with money. 

Mad E. Your pardon for a moment. The paper you desire 
was left in Dramard's desk. I will return directly. 
{Exit Madam E.) 

Bern. Certainly. {Goes to Mad. Egrafarge's desk, examines 
drawers). Where has Adeda gone? I parted them with a ven- 
geance. What a man will do one can predict, but for a woman! 
Only heaven itself can tell. To find her must the priest be 
watched. (Taking up letter.) Ah, that is from Adeda. Should 
she return, her aunt refusing shelter, I may yet succeed. ( Thrusts 
letter in his pocket, returns to table.) 

Enter Madam Egrafarge. 

Mad. E. Here is the deed. How much we thank you for this 
generous aid. 

Bern. Ah, do not think of it. These are the proceeds of the 
Dramard lands. {Giving money ; about to go.) I trust your son is 
well. 

Mad. E. yes, he came back yesterday. Dramard learned 
that possibly Adeda might return, though we have nothing definite. 

Bern. Indeed. Since she had left you so abruptly I have 
hardly thought of her. 

Mad. E. At first the blow was fearful, but as I remembered all 
her just and truthful ways, I could not think Adeda would do 
wrong. 

Bern. Still, from your generous care eloping so offensively — 

Mad. E. So good, so kind, she must have been deceived. 

Bern. How very strange, that she could thus remain with 
Cardrac ! and despite his lawful wife. 

Mad. E. 'Tis terrible, should I condone the crime? I fear it 
would be wrong. 

Bern. To share dishonored home with such a man, amid the 
wild carousings of his wretched gambling life, was little like your 
former niece. Still er — we hope she may have been deceived. 

Mad. E. Alas, though I so fondly loved Adeda, how can I 
welcome her again? 



SCENE I.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 43 

Bern. Ah, do not be distressed, she may not wish now to dis- 
grace you by returning. I think you would be happier if she 
should remain away. Farewell. 

Mad. E. Thanks, and farewell. (Exit Bernreb.) 

0, must I steel this breast against my lovely niece? It breaks my 
heart to think of that dear girl. 

(Exit Madam Egrafarge.) 

Enter Adeda. 
Ade. Am I Adeda? This was Adeda's home. There are her 
childhood's toys; unnoted sped her golden hours with those rare 
volumes. Mid purity and peace these treasured flowers bloomed 
in fragrant love of her. And what am I ! Why came I to 
Adeda's home? 

Enter Madam Egrafarge. 

Mad. E. Adeda. 

Ade. My dearest aunt. 

(Each advances as if to embrace, then slowly stops.) 

Mad. E. What brought thee here? 

Ade. A dream, a childish dream; only a dream of innocence 
and love. 
(Adeda retires very slowly. Madame Egrafarge struggles in agony 

between duty and affection.') (Exit Adeda.) 

Mad. E. (Rushing towards entrance endeavoring to overtake 
Adeda.) Adeda! 0! (Swoons.) 

Enter Dramard. 

Dra. ! mother what has happened? 

Enter Nellen. (Both assist Mad. Egrafarge.) 

Nel. Was there an accident, a fall? 

Dra. I cannot tell ; my mother seems quite agitated or slightly 
wandering. 

Mad.E. (With great effort.) Call— 

Dra. Do not be disturbed kind mother dear. 

Mad. E. Call— call— Adeda. 

Dra. Rest quietly my dearest mother. Adeda shall be called 
directly. (To Nellen.) Evidently she does not know for what 
she asks. Please aid me, let us take my mother to her room. 

(Exit Dramard and Nellen with Mad. Egrafarge.) 
Enter Exelene. 

Ene. O! my, I am so scared; it must have been a ghost! 
Every bit of me just creeps. Somebody is coming. I hope it's 
Girdrig. (Opens door. Is startled and retreats.) 



44 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT V. 

Enter Lord Cornanroc and Officer. 
Officer. Good evening, fair maid, is this the residence of Madam 
Egrafarge? 

Enter Girdrig. (Enelene delighted.} 

Ld. Cor. Ah! you need not ask. I feel it in a thousand ways. 
My sister ! My gentle sister. My dear Adeda ! ! thou poor 
child so sadly wronged. This was indeed your home. That 
heartless fiend incarnate baffled all my inquiries. That villain 
Bernreb! ! — But I learned all, despite your perfidy! 0! Bern- 
reb ! Bernreb why — 

Officer. His name is Darkrad. I shall receive a large reward 
if that good priest identifies the man. 

Gird. What! Father Ordadro? He that is to be absolved from 
priestly vows, for the great aid his noble brother gave the Pope? 

Officer. 0, I care naught for that, if he can help me find this 
Darkrad. One hundred pounds is what I'm working for. 

Enter Nellen. 

Nel. Good gentlemen, whoever you may be, go at once in 
search of our Adeda. One-half hour since she came, when her 
kind aunt, deceived, gave chilling welcome, but is frantic with 
remorse, and now beseeches you to bring her dear niece home. 
Dramard has gone to rouse the neighbors, O hasten, I entreat. 

Ld. Cor. (To Nellen hastening away.) You cannot think 
Adeda criminal. (Exit all except Nellen and Ld. Cor.) 

Nel. Adeda criminal? never, no. A soul so pure could do 
no conscious wrong! 

(Close in.) 

End op Scene I. 



ACT V. Scene II. 

Scene II. — Forest scene on the banks of the Mississippi, at entrance to squirrel's 
cave. Large door surmounted by cross. Moonlight. 

Enter Dod with guitar. (Sings.) 

I am waitin', lonely waitin', by the tawney, glistenin' stream, 
Where we rested from our toilin', in the sunset's golden gleam; 
And I seem to see you Ama and our child, it's like a dream : 

"While my longin' heart is waitin' for your comin', comin' home, 
And the aspens whisper Ama, are you neber comin' home? 
But the ribber murmers eber, you are neber comin' home. 



SCENE II.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 45 

When da tore you from de cabin an da sole you bof away, 
When the cruel trader sent you, sailen, weepen, down the bay, 
How my heart ached for you Ama, how it bleeds for you to-day, 
An is achen, sadly waitin', for your coniin', comin' home: 
But the ribber murraers eber, you are neber comin' home, 
While de somber pines are sighin', never more are comin' home. 

Bare and lonely is de cabin dat was dear to you and me, 

By de mouty Mississippi rushin' surgin' to the sea, 

Where we watched the moonlight glimmer, when the child was on my knee, 
Where my breakin' heart is waitin' for your comin', comin' home, 
For the ribber answers eber, you are neber comin' home, 
Murmers eber, Ama neber, neber more is comin' home. 

Hark, de mockin' bird is callin' o'er the waters troubled flow, 
Hear him call for you my Ama, singin' sweetly, soft an' slow, 
While de aspens rustlin' whisper, askin' kindly, sighin' low, 

Are you comin', gentle Ama? are you eber comin' home? 
Still the ribber answers eber, you are neber comin' home, 
Murmers eber, comin' neber, neber more are comin' home. 

Exit Dod. 

Enter Adeda. 

Ade. (Coming down the path.) This winding path Ordadro's 
feet have pressed. Ordadro, noble, pure and true, whom I must 
never meet — as high as yonder vast refulgent sphere above this 
wrecked Adeda. Wrapped in this lonely night may I steal in and 
kneel where he has uttered prayer. (Attempts vainly to open doors, 
then a step away.) They will not yield. — Each door — and heart — 
and hope, is closed to lost Adeda. (Sinks weeping to the ground. 
Then starting up with energy.) Why should Adeda live, when one 
sharp pang can end her agony? (Produces dagger, and looks 
intently at same.) And may she with this Savior's image in her 
clasp, stain both with her unworthy life? O ! would some other 
hand might give her soul release ! (Again looks intently at dagger.) 
Like Thee, Adeda has not where to lay her head, canst Thou not 
take her to Thyself ? (Glances imploringly at doors. Then at forest 
— then thrusts the point of dagger in a little mound of flowers so that 
it stands before her as a crucifix, when she kneels extending her hands.) 

1. 
Dear Savior, let me come to Thee, 

O, turn not Thou away from me, 
So loathsome my sad life appears, 
My tortured soul, mid crushing fears, 
With bleeding heart, in blinding tears, 

To Thee would come, dear Lord, to Thee. 



46 THE SPANISH PRIEST. [ACT V. 



With anguish wrung, from contrite knee, 

Adeda's soul would come to Thee. 
Her life seems black as deepest night, 
O, take from her that hideous blight, 
Take Thou her soul to Thy pure light, 

O, let Adeda come to Thee. 

Enter Ordadro followedby Bernreb, who strives to keep out of sight. 

Ordadro first listens spellbound, then advances and retreats great!;/ 

agitated by contending emotions. 

Ord. Kind heaven direct. — I cannot go. 

Ade. {Startled and radiant, but not seeing Ordadro.) That 
was Ordadro's voice ! 

Ord. Adeda! 

Ade. Ordadro! (They embrace.) 

Ord. (Slowly withdrawing from Adeda.) My vows, my fearful 
priestly vows. 0, heaven, my cruel vows. 

Ade. Leave me! — Leave me! — 0, let me go— with night and 
solitude. Let not Adeda wrong thy soul. 
(Bernreb, warily approaches, eagerly clutches Adeda's dagger and 

watches intently for opportunity to strike the priest.) 

Ord. Thy lovely image has entranced my soul ! How can I 
let thee go? (Returning to Adeda.) 

Ade. Thou generous man! But I, (withdrawing) Ah, 
what am I! Alas! Alas! Ah, what, alas am I! 

Ord. The truest, noblest, best in all the world — 
(Adeda discovering Bernreb about to strike, ivith a cry of horror 

strives to avert the blow. Ordadro seizing Bernreb, a struggle 

ensues.) 
Hold! Away. Thou cowardly assassin ! 

(Enter Girdrig and Officer.) 

Ade. Help, help, disarm the cruel murderer. 

Officer. Darkrad, the forger. Ah ! I know him well. 

(Bernreb is manacled by Girdrig and Officer.) 

Ord. He is disarmed. Your faithful steel (giving Adeda the 
dagger) refused to pierce my breast. 

Ade. The blade is stained! You have no wound? 

Ord. Ah! no the merest scratch. 

Enter Enelene. (Makes sign.) 
Enter Cornanroc and Dramard. 

Dra. Adeda, cousin, welcome home. 



SCENE II.] THE SPANISH PRIEST. 47 

Ade. Dramard, my cousin ! Thanks ! most cordial thanks ! 

Ld. Cor. Nearer and dearer is my welcome home. {Taking 
Adeda's hand.) The mother that once clasped (taking dagger) 
this weapon on her helpless child — was -yours Adeda — and was 
mine. 

Ade. (Dazed.) Can this be true, Ordadro? — Ah, yes 'tis true, 
it is, it is, 'tis true! (Seizing both Lord Cornanroc's hands with 
great animation.) That was our mother's voice which thrilled me 
when we met before ; her eyes look out from yours : her love 
would guide our thoughts. (Slowly lets fall the hands, with agony.) 
Can I, — can such as I — be sister — cousin — friend? Why was I 
rescued from the shielding waves? (The dagger falls.) 

Ord. Far more than sister, cousin, friend. Thrice "blessed 
are the pure in heart." 

Ld. Cor. Despite the machinations of that fiend in human 
form, I have learned all and bring, to Don Ordadro, news of great 
import (Producing document.) which is herein set forth. This 
peerless man — who, renouncing his estate, became a priest to save 
a relative condemned — by His Holiness the Pope has been 
absolved from sacerdotal vows and to his former rank, soldier and 
nobleman, is now restored. 

(Lord Cornanroc gives document to priest.) 

Orel. Thanks! Thanks! thou Noble Pope! I'm free! free! 
free ! ( Tearing off priest's robe, disclosing Spanish costume and 
seizing Adeda's hand.) I am no more a priest. 

(Curtain.) 

The End. 



lllBffi!ll° F CONGRESS 

016 102 777 7 § 



